Island
by TyrFing Cycle
Summary: Alternative story set in Great Britain on the Isle of Wight, own characters dealing with the outbreak of the walking dead. Action/Horror/Drama. Feed back, ideas, reviews and constructive criticism welcome! Hope to update once a month.
1. Prologue

Jenny ran for her life down the old town high street of Ryde, a bloody screw driver gripped in her hand. Her breath was fast and desperate as she grew tired. Tears streamed across her cheeks as she ran, faster and faster trying to escape the pack of creatures that had once been familiar faces. There was a sick smell of gangrene that wafted with the sea breeze and she could hear the sound of broken and sharp teeth snapping at the prospect of tearing her apart. She took a sudden turn into an alley that cut through into a car park filled with abandoned and broken down cars.

Suddenly as she turned a blind corner she ran into the face of a friend, but it wasn't a friend anymore. The new figure staggered forward snatching Jenny's arm making her drop her weapon, she screamed out loud and lashed out striking the creature. Blind in the struggle, Jenny didn't notice her other pursuers approaching until they were upon her. She ducked and fell to her knees scrabbling around on all fours like a monkey. She found a way out of the grabbing and scratching hands seeing the screwdriver and she reached for it. As she did one of the creatures grabbed her hand and sunk its teeth into her arm. The pain seared through her body and she let out another piercing scream wrenching her arm clear ramming the weapon into the creature's eye. It fell to the ground taking the weapon with it; Jenny had no time to get it back and turned, running up through the car park towards the front of a super market hoping to double back to her house. It was wrong to have gone out after her sister, she thought, but she had been gone for nearly six hours.  
She came to the front of the supermarket and a small square; she made for the route from the square that lead back to the high street and home. Jenny ran for it, but as she did three creatures appeared to block her path with slathering and frothing mouths and cold dead eyes. She stumbled back and turned to flee only to be cut off again by the other group, she cried out in terror retreating into a small corner of the square, a dead end.

She slumped down trying to push herself back further as the monsters closed in, sobbing and clutching her injury she tried to push back into the wall. Despair struck as the end approached only to be shocked when the closest creature twitched and stiffened before falling face first to the floor, a black bolt sticking out of its head. Moments later and two more lay still on the ground. Jenny caught a glimpse of her rescuer near the entrance of the super market. Dressed in black with a mask of cloth covering their face, the person moved swiftly. They carried a crossbow with a small quiver of bolts at their side. The person moved in to engage the last of the creatures that turned their attention on the new blurry and fast moving target. As if lightning struck, a short straight edged sword came from the strangers back. The figure stabbed it methodically into the head of each of the creatures one by one until they all lay on the ground, truly dead. The moment died down and Jenny looked at the stranger as he collected bolts from the dead bodies; he kneeled down at the last corpse and looked up. She stared into a pair of ice blue eyes; his brown scruffy hair drooped over his forehead. He was wearing some crude plastic armour which had been sprayed black. He studied her before removing his mask of black cloth, revealing the rest of his face. He was a young man in his twenties, his face was without expression.

"Are you okay?" He asked his voice calm and collected which only served to unnerve Jenny further.

She stared at him unable to reply through the fear; he rose and approached her cautiously. Jenny stayed perfectly still as he studied her; noticing how she clutched a bleeding arm.

"Let me see your arm."

She shook her head looking at him with wide eyes.  
"It's okay, I will not hurt you. Let me see your arm."

Jenny was reluctant but slowly held out her arm supporting it with her other hand, the wound already looked infected with blood still slowly pumping out, a rotten, broken tooth protruding from the edge of the bite.  
"Can you help me?" Jenny stammered. "I'm trying to find my sister."  
The man's face looked saddened like a terrible burden just landed on him but then he smiled trying to hide his feeling.  
"What's going on?" She asked.  
"Where are your parents?"  
"On holiday in Spain, my sister was looking after me when the news stories began. She said she was going out to get some food and didn't come back." Jenny's face filled with tears once more as she began to worry.  
"Don't worry, everything will be okay. What is your name?"  
"Jenny." She replied.  
"Hello Jenny, my name is Jack." He continued, calming Jenny's mood, making her feel safe.

Suddenly Jenny's arm twitched and there was a burning pain which made her yell out loud. Jack moved in swiftly to check what was wrong. Within the wound the blood began to bubble and in moments it erupted with maggots. Jenny screamed in panic and began shaking her arm scratching to get the maggots off.

"What's happening?!" Jenny screamed.  
"Jenny, stay still!" Jack urged trying to help her.  
"No, help me! It hurts!" She shouted back shaking harder.  
"I'm sorry." Jack said grimly as he stood up, bringing her to her feet.

Jenny found herself staring down the barrel of something but was unable to see what it was before there was a flash of light and she felt herself falling. It was cold suddenly, then warm. Jenny saw her sister. She wasn't scared anymore.


	2. Part I

Jack felt like he had stood there for an eternity above the body of the girl. How old could she have been? Jack sighed with pain, it had to be done he thought, she would have only died a slower and more painful death before coming back to stalk the streets like the rest of those who had been bitten. It was different to what he had seen before though, the first time he had seen someone bitten there had been only a few maggots that appeared, they never burst out of the wound like that. The only way he knew, and had seen, how to deal with a case of a bite was a blow to the head. He had perfected the kill going through the eyes with his sword and aiming for the soft areas of the skull with his cross bow, but the fastest and swiftest way was a gunshot. After coming back from death the people didn't feel pain the same way, they could take severe punishment, broken limbs and gun shots to the body only staggered them slightly. Whatever this _illness_ did to people, they were truly monsters now.

Jack came to his senses once more realising he wasn't in a safe place and his gun shot would have only attracted more attention. He replaced his weapon in the small holster hidden at his back under his coat and took one last look at Jenny. He couldn't leave her here. Even though she was dead the creatures would devour her till there was nothing left but bones. He chose not to leave her and picked up her small, limp frame and carried her. She was light which allowed him to move swiftly back through the streets away from the high street to St Jones Annex. The old building had once been a place of learning and he had learnt his martial skill there. Now it was a well secured fort with a walled off courtyard. There he could bury Jenny, free from fear at last.

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Jack entered the main upstairs hall of St John's Annex which was the biggest room on the upper level. The door stood at the top end of the hall and most of the floor was covered in red and green Judo mats. Jack came into the room quietly and as usual he did a quick scan, to the right of the door stood his empty armour rack next to a table with various pieces of equipment scattered across it. At the far end of the hall there stood a shrine with a large withering plant behind it. In front of it was a neatly stacked supply of assorted canned goods and bottles of water, big and small. Satisfied that everything was in its place he went up to the table and stripped his armour placing it neatly back on the rack. He was covered in dirt and grime from burying the girl and brushed himself down. He wore a t-shirt and track suit bottoms under his armour, all black. Afterwards he placed his cross bow, bolts and sword upon the table. He began cleaning the used bolts and cursed after he noticed one had cracked and bent slightly. He then turned his attention to the sword; it was still stained with blood and a few chipped pieces of skull. He reach under the table to a kettle filled with water and hit the switch. It was crudely hooked up to a car battery and began boiling away. Once it was finished Jack took it and poured the boiling water into a bowl and using a cloth he cleaned the blade, disposing the water out of a window into the central courtyard. Satisfied it was clean he dried and oiled it before replacing it back into the scabbard and leaving it on the table with the cross bow.

He stretched out his back and suddenly felt at a loss and still uneasy from his morning raid. The hall was dingy. All of the tall windows had been covered up by thick sheets to conceal his presence and they let in only a small amount of light at the edges and tops. Suddenly a noise of clattering metal came from the street outside and Jack approached a window and peaked out looking down through a gap into the streets. Below was St John's Avenue and the road lead up to a cross road which turned on to the main high street. From his position Jack could see a large group of the infected staggering around and bumping into wrecked cars.

"Like clockwork." He said to himself. He had noticed that an ever growing group of them would wander in a vast circle down the high street before turning around and stalking the roads and suburbs before coming back around. Like a hunting party they searched endlessly for food, their ever growing number was worrying but their predictable timing allowed Jack to plan his raids.

Jack turned back into the room and sat down on the mat for a moment trying to manage the memories of the morning as they plagued on him. This infection was foul, grotesque but also showed signs of intelligence. He remembered the first news stories coming in after a town up north received the first cases. They told everyone to stop buying fruit from suppliers outside the UK. Places like Africa and South America were experiencing serious cases. But it wasn't enough. The stories of unrest spread through England, people coming back after the illness had killed them, eating everything that moved.

Jack shook his head and took his gun from its holster; he withdrew the clip and dispensed the round in the chamber. It was a SIG Sauer P226 which he had scavenged off a broken and abandoned police van not too far from the Annex. It had been a lucky find and he had made two trips for all the treasure, he smirked remembering the moment. He thought about a meal but it made his stomach turn over so he began his routine checks of the fort.

The Annex stood on a hill surrounded by houses at the rear side and the road on the other. Jack had come here weekly to learn Kung Fu as a hobby and it was a place he associated with strength and safety. The courtyard already had a high wall blocking the houses but Jack had increased its height by five feet of wood and metal he had scavenged. The work had been back breaking alone and difficult to keep quiet but the extra protection was worth it. He had barricaded the front entrance and down stairs rooms. There was one stair well close to the back of the Annex, the only route up stairs. Jack had managed to seal off the front down stairs rooms using wood and nails and had completely blocked the corridor with the spare tables and chairs he found in the Annex. After that was the one door that lead to the stairs and the back door to the courtyard which was locked, barred and then bricked up, leaving Jack access to the courtyard. Jack was proud of the complex structure; the creatures would give up long before they even got to that door. He silently thanked his father for making him help out with all the DIY and house repairs when he was a kid.

The courtyard itself had one entrance from the stair well and one fire exit from one of the downstairs rooms which was also locked and barred with metal. It also had access to the toilet facilities which made surviving in a dead zone a lot easier. Upstairs Jack had a regular entrance which involved going down an alley along the east side of the building, climbing a six foot outer wall and using a rope ladder to scale to a rear window on the upper level. He had also created two escape routes, one was a knotted rope which was at the south east corner of the Annex leading to the street, the second was an old fire escape in the main hall which led to the roof tops, from which he could drop into a nearby house. Jack went through the Annex checking the exits and looking out the windows to check for any of the creatures that may have wandered close by. Once his check was done he went to his inventory.

Next to the great hall was his old Kung Fu masters office and where Jack had his first escape route, he entered the room. On one wall were his teacher's books, a wide selection of martial arts books from Karate, Judo and Kung Fu of various styles. The books had been a comforting source of entertainment during the lonely days and nights. The room was rectangular and was now being used as his armoury.  
Jack approached the gun rack and table in the centre of the room and studied the weapons. He picked up the first gun on the rack and took it to the table; it was a Heckler & Koch MP5 Carbine. Standard issue for most UK Firearms trained police officers; it was one of the guns he had found in the van. He had awkwardly learnt how to dismantle and clean the weapon and although at one point he had lost the trigger he was starting to get the hang of it. He had only two clips, he kept both of them loaded for emergencies. After cleaning it he replaced it and took the next one, a Remington 870 pump action shot gun. It had become his favourite weapon when he blew the head off an infected at fifteen paces. Once he finished cleaning it he checked his ammunition stores.

His pistol and the MP5, conveniently, both took 9mm ammunition and Jack had managed to secure nearly four hundred rounds each in twenty five round boxes. It had been a heavy bag. His shotgun took 20 gauge shells and there was only one bandolier of twenty five rounds of buckshot in the van. He smirked as he remembered the find; he had not been too greedy. He left a pistol and some ammunition with a note:

 _"If you're reading this you're not as lucky as me, but if you check the glove box you'll find a Glock 17 and fifty rounds. If you're planning on using it to top yourself please be kind enough to do it in the van so the next passerby can make use of it, thanks."_

Jack finished his weapon check and stepped back from the table. He once again felt at a loss and he was left standing for a while in silence.  
"Hello?" A voice said from the next room.

Jack went into an adjoining room next to his master's office, it was a small square space and had a large blanket up against the window shielding out the light. The smell in the room was stale and reeked of infection. In the far corner chained to the wall sat his kung fu master.  
"It's me master." Jack said as he entered.  
"Jack? Oh yes, of course." The old man replied.

Jack saw how he had lost so much of his former self, he was skinny as a rake, and his long grey hair had all but fallen out. The wound on his left arm was covered by a bandage but the blackness from the infection had spread all down his left side discolouring his skin. Jack remembered the terrible ordeal of trying to heal and clean the wound. Even in a state of agony the old man had guided Jack through methods from his numerous Chinese medicine books. He had even poured boiling alcohol in to the wound but that too failed to clean it and keep the spread at bay. Jack moved over to his master and took a seat on the floor in front of him.  
"How are you feeling today?" Jack asked.  
"Worse, I am struggling to remember things."  
"Like what?"

"I almost forgot who you were just now, but I also can't remember what has happened in the past few days. I can feel the headaches drain away my strength with every wave." His master said tapping the side of his forehead.

Jack's face showed his hatred for this disease. Since his master was bitten only two days before he had seen how rapidly the illness took hold of him. After being bitten he hadn't suffered the burst of maggots the way Jenny had, but a good number of them had appeared in the wound and then disappeared before Jack could remove them. After that his master had begun suffering intense rolling migraines over and over. Sometimes he was barely able to contain the pain with blood sometimes seeping from his nose and ears. Jack had held a cloth over his mouth to let him scream.  
"I thought that maybe, the world would work this out Jack, that there might be a cure. But at this rate I will be dead soon, even chaining myself here I thought that even if I _was_ taken by this illness I might be cured eventually."  
Jack's eyes welled as he knew what his master was leaning towards.  
"You must kill me Jack, I will not become one of them."  
"Master, please, we discussed this." Jack said.  
"No!" The sound stern and powerful and Jack admired how the old man still held onto to his honour and discipline even now. "I'm proud of you Jack, you were my best student. I never met another who could learn as fast nor could understand so much, I will only be burden now and you must live. This is why you must learn and understand this now. Let me go."

"What can I do master? I still need guidance."

"It is as I taught you with this art, as a teacher I can show you the road and the basics, you have all you need from me."

They sat together in silence taking a moment in each other's company. Jack fetched tea and they shared a cup. This day cannot get worse, Jack thought. He went and got tea many times as he sat with his master for most of the day. They talked about the past and the future, his master even asked him to go through his kung fu forms giving him feedback for improvement.  
"I can't do it." Jack said at last. "I can't kill you master, you _must_ hold on longer."  
"Jack I have held on plenty, this illness doesn't work like anything we've ever seen. It has buried itself within me and I cannot fight it." Replied the old man, but as he did he suddenly doubled over and vomited a black, foul smelling paste and another vicious migraine set in. He began groaning as it seemed to burn his mind. Jack hovered nervously over his master, helpless. The groaning intensified and Jack's heart jumped as the ordeal seemed to become worse and harder on his master. He helped him to a sitting position and found his master was red in the face, as if he was choking. He was struggling to breath and Jack desperately tried to help him but to no avail. His master doubled over again to the floor this time limp. His body jerked twice then lay still.  
Jack got up and checked for a pulse, then stepped back in shock. They had been speaking only moments before and in an instance of chaos, the old man was gone. They had worked together in the Annex to try and survive, all of Jacks efforts were being over looked by his master, now he was alone. A feeling of complete exile came over him and his mind filled with thoughts and emotion. He had always been a loner, seeking peace and quiet when others preferred company. When he met his master he had found another like himself and oddly enough they enjoyed each other's company, sitting quietly together.

Jack sat down in the middle of the room looking at the lifeless body chained to the wall trying to come to grips with reality; he then remembered how the illness worked. The news reported how once the illness killed someone, they came back, only this time they would be different, tearing apart anything that moved so they could feed. Scientists created a number of wild theories; what the infected ate? What was causing them to come back? Whilst he pondered on the virus. The corpse twitched. One of the theories had based it upon the maggots found in the wound but Jack had not believed it possible and by the time that theory came up most of England was suffering with cases of people coming back and eating one another and Jack was on the run for survival. Another twitch came from the body and Jack saw the hands tense and move. The body of his master then sat up quickly and Jack leapt to his feet and moved away. He then found himself staring into the eyes of his master but what looked back at him seemed truly alien. It then lunged at Jack held back by the chains in the wall. Jack kicked it back and pulled his gun. He paused.

"You're dead, master." Jack said with tears coming to his eyes. "You're dead and no one can cure that." His master thrashed wildly at him unable to reach. Jack took a deep breath and stepped closer. He aimed the gun at his master's head and fired and the body fell to the floor with a heavy thump.

Jack stood there looking down at the body, as he did so the maggots appeared again. They came out of his ears, nose and mouth. There were many of them and soon small piles formed, but as they left the corpse they quickly shrivelled up and died. Jack gasped and left the room swiftly, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it all away.

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Jack returned to the main hall, hoping to take his mind away from his pain he went to try and eat something. He approached his food supply in the far corner of the room. It was dwindling. Of everything he had secured, food was not amongst it. After the news began reporting unrest within the country and the world, stores were raided and food was hoarded by everyone. It meant Jack had to loot most of his long life food from people's houses, which made life that much harder. He would often find entire families who had committed suicide or who were now eating one another.

He reached out and took a can of baked beans and used a knife to open the can before drinking the food, being very careful not to cut his mouth on the edge. After eating he grabbed one of the smaller bottles of water drinking some before taking it with him to a blanket pile under one of the windows. There he found his current book which he sat down and started reading, sucking up the knowledge and martial applications it had to offer.

It hadn't been this hard before. He knew his family were probably gone, his friends, whilst it was sad he had been strong. Seeing his master, the man who had taught him diligently and taken him under his wing like a son, slowly succumb to this viscous illness took its toll. He cried, only for a moment before brushing the tears away. Jacks eyes became itchy and he felt himself drift into a very light sleep; still holding the book open as if his consciousness was slowly being drained into it.

The first gunshot seemed like a far off wave in Jack's mind but as he remembered where he was he jumped awake hearing the sounds of chaos outside his windows. The hall was almost completely black and Jacks eyes struggled to adjust as he scrabbled around for his gun. He managed to find it, flicking the safety off before he peaked carefully out the nearest window. It was still dark. The moon, whilst full, was obstructed by clouds making it almost impossible to see anything that was happening. Jack closed his eyes and focused his ears to try and hear what was going on. There were six maybe seven people, a group of men and women shouting and bickering. Judging by the frequency of gun shots only one of them had a gun, he could hear the others exerting themselves, and judged they were using heavy blunt weapons. A flicker of light came from the sky as the clouds parted momentarily revealing the top of the hill and the cross roads. Jack counted several of the infected before darkness swept over again. The group were coming _up_ the hill and shots were being fired behind them. Jacks heart jumped to his throat as he realised the group were being chased and that this noise would only attract the regular hunting party that roamed the top of the high street. The voices grew louder until they were nearly under him in front of the Annex.

Suddenly a wild scream came from down below as one of the group was engulfed by their pursuers. It was a man and he wailed loudly in pain as the infected tore into him. It was a hideous noise grinding Jacks ear drums like a pestle and mortar. The panic seemed to rise and the voices stopped moving up the hill and Jack heard one of them shout.  
"There coming from the top of the hill!"

Jack dropped his head knowing their fate. There was no other way off St John's avenue except the cross roads and they couldn't go back, trapped. Jack heard a voice shout orders to them.  
"Break into the Annex, get off the street!"

They started banging on the door and Jack heard the wood begin to splinter. They wouldn't get through. He had bolted thick planks across the door frame even if the door itself came down they wouldn't get past the planks. Then he heard a window smash as they tried to get into the downstairs hall directly below him.  
"Fools!" Jack cursed under his breath. The downstairs hall was empty although it was penetrable it would become their tomb. There was no way into the corridor from the hall and all other exits had been sealed. He heard them break in and clamber into the hall, another blood gurgling scream went up as one of the women failed to get through the windows in time. Jack almost fell from the window towards his armour fumbling in the dark to put it on, the sound of desperate struggling echoing up from down stairs. Armour on; he ran into his master's office and snatched the shotgun, throwing the ammo belt over his shoulder.

He made a run down stairs and out into the courtyard. The hall the group was in had a fire exit that led to the courtyard but it was barred with heavy wood and metal. He let out a cry of frustration as he heard the people inside scream; fighting for their lives, trapped within Jacks fortifications. He heard them banging on the fire escape as he ripped at the planks to try and save them. They knew he was there.  
"Open the fucking door!" A man shouted in exhausted desperation.  
"We can't hold them!" Another voice from within shouted.

Jack was on the last bar when he heard another of them fall as the infected broke through the rest of the windows. The banging on the door ceased as the last of them turned to fight. Jack pulled with all his strength as he heard them fighting, he let out a shout of rage as the metal bar began to bend, but with all his effort he couldn't get it free. Despair took hold as he heard the survivor's fall, their screams of pain and terror cutting through the air until they were drowned out by the sound of flesh being ripped apart. Jack could only stand there breathing heavily in fear. The fools killed themselves by coming into to his fort he thought to himself, but he still felt blood on his hands.  
Suddenly slamming began on the fire doors as the infected sensed his presence and a gory arm reached through a gap in the door, flailing around violently like a fish out of water. Jack threw his weight against the door but couldn't contend with the force, he fell back and retreated to the door he came from. As he reached it the fire door burst open with several infected tumbling out into the courtyard followed by more trailing after Jack.

Panic gripped him as he fumbled with the door trying to lock it as fast as he could, his hands shaking and sweating franticly. He managed to lock the door but already the infected were banging against it with unnatural ferocity. Jack ran for his supply of wood and bricks in the stair well and in his panic hurled them at the door plugging it up with mess and debris. Primal instinct took over his body as he pushed more and more stuff into the small corridor blocking the door as best he could. Once he had ran out of stuff he scaled the stair well, three stairs a stride. Breaking through the door of his master's office Jack grabbed everything that wasn't nailed down; chairs and tables, pictures, ornaments and books. He threw all of it down the stair well filling it with junk and obstacles, when he ran out of loose objects he began frantically tearing off shelves and cupboard doors and threw them down the stairs.

He emptied the entire up stairs of everything that had no use anymore, when every muscle burned and sweat stung his eyes, Jack stopped. He took position at the top of the stairs with his guns laid out in front of him. Ammo set out ready for use and each weapon cleaned, checked and loaded. The banging went on and on with the sounds of the infected wandering his fort, moaning and growling as they went...


End file.
